I lay in the grass,
staring at the stars,
with tears streaming from my eyes.
I see a shooting star,
and I cry harder,
thinking about all the times
we laid here together,
making wishes.
I close my eyes and make one more wish,
a whisper.
I think hard,
wondering if I was going to
regret this.
No.
I won't.
So I make a wish
on that shooting star.
"I wish upon a shooting star,
whether you are near or far.
If you could never ask me why,
my only wish is that I die..."
YOU ARE READING
Musings of the Insane
PoetryThis is more or less a sequel to Nightmares, only this one will mostly be freestyle poetry. The same warning applies to this one. Also, if easily triggered, do not read, please. Thanks and enjoy.
